Sweet Summer

In a land far away from here

A bright sun shone across the sky

In a place where rivers run clear

I found rest ‘neath the branches high

Babbling brooke and streams that cry

Softly to me, and here I claim

My heart and soul that seem to fly

The sweet summer breeze calls my name

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Resting in the easy light place

My eyes close and I deeply breathe

Remembering the time and space

For life, loss and the river Lethe

Where I see the faded paths seethe

Into unknown patterns of shame

I see the floating flowered wreaths

The sweet summer breeze calls my name

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Begin again, reckoning heart

Do not believe the tired lies

That crumble under the green start

Of a bright new day, if the cries

Of the newborn end with sunrise

How can we say there’s one to blame

For even the red robin flies

The sweet summer breeze calls my name

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While asleep, while awake, I dream

As if my hope was to be tamed

I lift my eyes to the light beam

The sweet summer breeze calls my name


After a LONG while, I finally finished this ballade poem! This poetic form is very beautiful but a bit difficult for my free form poetic ways! I was very happy with how this form challenged me to count and rhyme. Thanks Donna for introducing me to the form! Be sure to check out the orignal post and see how other’s responded to the form! Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash

At the races- a short story

“Quick around the bend!” Margy shouted. She held her breath. Somehow these races always got the best of her usually reserved character. Her friend Peggy screamed next to her, ”AROUND THE BEND YOU FOOL!!” Peggy’s hat and composure fell on the ground but she didn’t care. She grabbed Margy’s hand and started jumping.

“I can’t see! I can’t see Margy!” Peggy’s face was reddening under the sun and the excitement. Margy looked down and realized they were sitting on a bench. The perfect substitute for a stool.

“Let’s stand on this bench Peggy! Quick up and up before they finish!” She grabbed Peggy’s hand and lifted her onto the bench. A man behind them loudly complained about not being able to see the track any longer. Peggy didn’t even hear him. She was jumping and waving her hands.

“Margy! HE’S WINNING! MY BABY’S AHEAD!” Margy knew Peggy was referencing her favorite horse, not her biological child. Peggy was so wrapped up in the race, Margy just had to smile. Every year they went to the races together, bet on horses and had a wonderful time.

“MARGY! HE’S WON THE RACE! FIRST PLACE TO MY BABY!!!”

Margy laughed and said “He did it for you Peggy!”


This short story was inspired by the Secret Attic “Picture this” challenge! I had a lot of fun writing and responding to this one. I probably could have taken it a bit farther but as with most of my writing, I like to end it before it gets started… I would like to write more short fiction and hope to sit down this month and finally work on some vignettes for my children’s story!

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Also to those that regularly read my writing, you may have wondered where I ventured to since I have not posted recently. With the Easter holiday and other springtime fun, I took a break from writing. This month, I hope to get stuck into writing again. For when I write, I feel so much better. Writing has been a comforting self-care activity for so long now, I want to make sure that I keep at it. Thanks for your support!

Stationary Solitude

Waves ripple

Swiftly melting moments

And I reflect

On the mirror

Of the universe

.

Stationary

.

Black dots to

Swim across the

Other worldly planes.

The shade of leaves,

Phantoms of a 

Looking glass that has

Stilled the stream

.

Solitude

.

I found breath and

Double vision memories

That always

Tenderly uncover

My innermost desire

To inhabit

This quiet world.


I wrote this poem in response to the Rattle Ekphrastic Challenge. You can find the photo I was inspired by here. I have been trying to write in response to various ‘challenges’ that I find online! It has been such a good way to push myself creatively and think outside the box. Recently, I have found myself less inclined to write about my personal life but I still want to create and feel inspired. These exercises have been a pleasant way to continue writing but not have to dig so deep… I wonder if this is part of the artistic process. After writing about myself for so long, it feels refreshing to take a step back and take inspiration from elsewhere. In this poem, I use the word “I” and you might be thinking “Isn’t this poem about yourself??”. Although this poem uses a first person pronoun, I don’t see myself reflected in the poem rather the “I” represents the reader. You really have to take a look at the picture to understand. Photo by Pepe Reyes on Unsplash

My

My reflection

Among the lily pads

On the cool clear 

Dawn

Settled into a simple

Charmed life

.

My soul

Resting in the shadow

Of the trees

Embanked 

On the crisp

River

Settled into a charmed

Simple life


Not much to say about this poem. Change and new adventures sit on my horizon and I long for a ‘simple charmed life’. But maybe I already have it?

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Published in Flora Fiction

I am so excited to announce that I have been published in the Spring 2021 Issue of Flora Fiction! Please take a moment to check out this awesome issue and read work from amazing writers!

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I want to congratulate the Flora Fiction team on an incredible job! I love the “Revival” theme and how this issue feels so relevant in today’s world.

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Find my poem below on pg 21. Also please be sure to follow Flora Fiction, purchase a print copy and submit to be considered for publication!

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Chimera

Tell me your name.

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Change

Shift

And Reveal

But then I blink

And you are gone.

Moving

Making and

Creating

New ripples in this

Thing we call

Life.

.

Tell me your name, Chimera


This poem is inspired by the Name That Vase by The Alchemist’s Studio! Each month, readers are given the chance to write a poem inspired by the vase! I was part of this challenge back in 2019 and had the honor of naming this piece: here. What would you write in response to this vase? Picture by The Alchemist’s Studio.

blizzard of thoughts

Awake and feeling

That you’ve forgotten

Something important

To do

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I remember the way

You made me smile

And how I giggled

At your jest

.

That moment

In time

And a blizzard of thoughts

I knew

It was love

.

Staring up at the ceiling

And I think back

To all the important things

I need to say

To you


Hello! I have been going through some of the older Tuesday Writing Challenge prompts at the Go Dog Go Cafe. This poem was inspired by the title “blizzard of thoughts”. Although I have tried to steer clear of love poems recently, they always seem to creep back up on me! I enjoyed writing this poem and remember those feelings one gets as a teenager. Do you like to write love poems?

Ekphrastic Challenge Response: Earle Richardson

Sweat dripped slowly down my face. I used my palm to wipe away the trailing tear from my cheek. It was brutal under this heat. Under the Carolina sun. My nana always told me that if the sun wanted to, he could burn the earth but each day the sun decided to let us live and made his way to the horizon. I looked up and stretched my palms toward the sun.

“Irene!  Stop staring at the sun!” my father yelled farther down the field. I turned to see my father make his way toward me. A proud man. A proud black man walking through his fields. The cotton swayed in the heat. The white seemed to make my father’s skin sparkle in the sun. I wondered how long I would have to work in this field. I grabbed the basket and lifted it to rest atop of my head. 

“Pa!” I called “Can’t I enjoy the field just for a moment?” I noticed the shade from the trees at the edge of the field. For a moment, I was transported to the cool shade. I blinked.

“Irene, you gotta understand. It is a must that we get this cotton harvest in. There is no time for waiting and dreaming. Look at your brothers, what do they do? Is it easy for them? No,” Pa had started getting frustrated. I looked down. “We need this, you are family. No enjoying.”

I nodded and felt more sweat drip down my face. It was always the same with my father. Family had no choice but to help. But my pa couldn’t stop me from dreaming. Even as my hands grew raw from the husks, I would dream of soft and subtle hands. As the fabric of my dress clung to my back, I would dream of a cool river and the evening sun. I would dream of a place where my family wasn’t tied to the land. In these dreams, I promised myself that I would make sure my children would see a different sun. The sun could burn my skin but as I grew darker and darker I felt more and more alive.


This short fiction piece was inspired by the monthly Ekphrastic Challenge over at the Ekphrastic Review! I have been following this page ever since Ingrid mentioned it! It has been a great way to explore and challenge myself! The writers that are selected are those that have been in the writing game for a long time. But even still, each week I submit my piece to challenge myself and grow. I enjoy reading the selected responses and seeing how other’s have been inspired by the image! What would your response be?

Finishing Touch

“Hey babe” she called. “Keep the windows down while you go on to the highway. Then you can sing as loud as you want.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and waved goodbye. I tugged my bag to my shoulder, smiled and turned to get into the car. Leaving her was always hard, but her jokes and jabs always made me happy. I looked at her from the driver’s seat of the car and shouted back. “You only wish you could hear my sweet melodies. I only sing for my most special guests!” She smiled and waved. I couldn’t hear her response but she was laughing as I pulled away. Her smile was the finishing touch on a perfect trip. If only I didn’t have to go.


If you are interested in learning more about the inspiration and background of my work, check out my kofi page. Photo by William Christen on Unsplash

Could be

I hold the weight

Of expectations 

On my chest

Heavy with the

Gravity 

Of all that I hoped

Could be

My mouth is shuttered

Against 

Prolonged

Questions

For I no longer know

Why I feel

Breathe

And wish for 

Things to be

different


Photo by Ben on Unsplash. If you are interested in learning more about the inspiration and background of my work, check out my kofi page.